An Undaunted Faith

by Andrea Boeshaar

  Turning, she took several steps forward, but halted when she saw the figure of a man in a deerskin tunic, pants, and moccasins standing in the shadows under a tree. His face was coppery, and his long black hair hung past his shoulders. In one of his hands, a knife’s blade glinted dangerously against a slim ray of sunshine, streaming through the treetop.

  “Luke!” Bethany screamed, shoving the girls behind her. “Luke, come quick!”

  Luke heard Bethany scream, and his heart fell to his toes. He dropped the harness he’d been trying to repair and sprinted from the barn. Jonas trailed him, rifle in hand. As he came around the house, he spied an Indian brave who wielded a knife in his hand.

  “Aw, it’s just you, Warring Spirit,” Jonas muttered irritably.

  Luke grinned. “Warring Spirit?” He squinted. Sure enough.

  A flash of recognition entered the brave’s dark eyes. “Preacher Luke McCabe.” He nodded, albeit warily.

  “You know him, Luke?” Beth stood close to him, her gray eyes wide with a mix of fear and surprise.

  “I met Warring Spirit last week over at Harlan’s place.”

  “Oh…yes, now I remember you telling me about it in the schoolhouse.”

  Jonas spoke with the Indian in a language Luke wasn’t familiar with. He watched with interest. What Jonas couldn’t communicate in the brave’s native tongue, he signed by using demonstrative gestures.

  At last, the Indian chuckled.

  “What did you tell him?” Luke set his hand on Beth’s shoulder. He couldn’t help enjoying the way she ran to him for protection. And he was more than happy to oblige her.

  “I done told him to quit scaring the churchwomen who come out here to cook and care for my children. Warring Spirit thinks it’s funny.”

  Beth clucked her tongue in annoyance as Michael’s cries grew more demanding. “The baby…”

  “Go on, take care of him,” Jonas barked while he disarmed his weapon.

  Beth glanced at Luke. “I’ll thank you to watch your tone, Ralph.” He and Jonas had shared words earlier, and Luke wasn’t above taking Beth home right now, leaving the man to care for his own family—as he should. Still, he understood why Jonas felt overwhelmed. Luke squeezed Beth’s shoulder. She turned and strode to the ill-constructed cabin where the baby boy’s wails seemed to fill the space around them. Then came the collective sigh when the infant quieted.

  “Your woman, Preacher Luke McCabe?” Warring Spirit walked toward him.

  “She sure is.” When the brave reached him, Luke held out his right hand.

  Warring Spirit took it. “Peace.”

  Luke nodded. “Peace.”

  Bethany quelled her racing heart. She’d never seen an Indian brave up close. He’d scared the daylights out of her. She thanked God that Warring Spirit had come alone and that he meant no harm.

  She fetched Michael and held him in her arms. The baby’s face was red and blotchy from weeping. Walking back to the doorway, Bethany called for Lacey to fetch some milk.

  “There, there, now.” Bethany rocked him. “You’ll get fed. I promise.”

  Standing near the doorway, she watched the men converse. She admired Luke’s intent expression and his easy stance. He never seemed afraid of confrontation or meeting someone new, and snakes were simply a mild concern for him. But to Bethany this rugged world of poisonous creatures and painted braves was a far cry from the simple farm life she’d known in Wisconsin. Why couldn’t Luke understand? And if he truly loved her, wouldn’t he agree to make their home in Jericho Junction?

  Lacey returned with a pail of milk. “I’m going back to the yard. I like it when Warring Spirit comes. He brings us gifts sometimes. Once he gave Jesse a whistle, and he showed me how to make a piece of jewelry with colored beads.”

  “Is that so?” Bethany was amazed that the fierce-looking man acted kindly to the children. On the trail she’d heard horror stories about Indian attacks. “All right. Let me make up some food for Michael, and then you can go and enjoy some free time.”

  “Thank you, Miss Stafford.”

  Handing off the baby to Lacey, Bethany stepped from the cabin to the outdoor kitchen. She lit the stove and then made up a fresh batch of infant pap, adding fresh milk to a tiny bit of flour along with a pinch of sugar. When the formula bubbled, Bethany removed it from the flame and allowed it to cool enough so she could pour a portion into a small glass bottle. A tin pap feeder fit inside the bottle. Then she reentered the hut and collected Michael from Lacey’s arms.

  “All right, you’re free to go. This might be your last chance to have time for yourself for a while since Luke and I will be heading back to town soon.”

  “I wish you didn’t have to go.”

  “But I must.”

  Lacey’s smile waned slightly as she left the cabin, and Bethany’s heart went out to the girl. Would it help if she told Lacey that she sympathized? And yet, Bethany’s home in Milwaukee had been luxurious compared to this hovel.

  Sitting in a rickety armchair, Bethany began to feed Michael. The sound of children’s excited voices wafted in from outdoors, and she allowed herself to enjoy the feel of a baby in her arms. Soon, however, she started missing her siblings and hoped her father refrained from mistreating them. Her reminiscing then unfolded into thoughts of bearing her own children—Luke’s children—and the idea was not at all unpleasant. But how could she think of children when she and Luke couldn’t agree on marital basics, like where to live?

  Bethany gazed at Michael, now sleeping angelically. Standing, she carefully made her way toward the baby’s cradle when Ralph burst into the cabin with as much tact as a freight train.

  She silenced him with a wide-eyed look filled with warning.

  “Beg yer pardon.” He spoke in hushed tones. “I know women get waspish when us men wake the babies. I’ll keep quiet.”

  Quite the turnabout. “You’re very wise, Mr. Jonas.”

  The baby whimpered.

  Bethany sighed. “Only you’re too late.”

  “Huh? Oh…”

  He crossed the cabin and peered at his son. Bethany watched him, wondering if Mr. Jonas blamed the infant for his wife’s death. Or perhaps he blamed himself. Regardless, the bland expression on the man’s face masked whatever he felt inside.

  “He’s got blue eyes,” he finally muttered.

  “Excuse me?”

  “That boy…he’s the only one of my brood that’s got blue eyes. Lacey told me that. Rest of them’s got brown eyes like me.”

  Bethany looked down at the baby, resting contentedly in her arms. His eyes were definitely blue. Back to Mr. Jonas, she asked, “Were your wife’s eyes this color?”

  “Must’ve been.”

  “You mean you’re not sure?”

  “Aw, now, Miss Stafford, don’t use that sharp tone on me. It’s been a long time since I stared into a woman’s eyes, even if she was my wife. A man gets busy, you know?”

  Bethany swallowed a retort, feeling appalled, but too flustered by the topic to call the man on it. However, it seemed to her that if he’d taken time to marry his wife and beget children, he ought to at least know the color of their mama’s eyes.

  Turning her attention to the baby once more, she smiled at him lovingly. Such a dear little thing. He gurgled softly as if trying to communicate, and then the most amazing thing happened. Michael’s gaze seemed to penetrate her own. She’d never had an infant look at her quite so intensely, and in that very moment, something stirred deeply within Bethany’s soul. It was as if her spirit reached out and touched the child’s as only a mother’s can do.

  This is my baby.

  She shook off the notion just as it took form. Of course Michael was not hers—he belonged to Ralph Jonas. Yet, an inner prompting, subtle and undefined, seemed to be telling her the contrary.

  My baby. My baby.

  No, he’s not!

  “That boy sure is fond of you,” Mr. Jonas observed. He stood close to her ear, and his warm breath
caused her to shudder in mild revulsion. “Fact is, my children like you best out of all the other churchwomen who come.” He lowered his voice, adding, “So do I.”

  Unnerved, Bethany quickly placed Michael in his cradle. “Luke will want to leave soon…”

  She hurried out of the cabin, praying Ralph Jonas wouldn’t follow her.

  Several hours later, Bethany felt more than glad when Luke assisted her into the wagon and drove off the Jonas’s property. Almost immediately, she recounted the experience involving Michael.

  “I’ve never had anything happen to me quite like it,” she told Luke, who listened quietly beside her. “It seemed like a premonition, a whisper from heaven, telling me Michael is going to be my baby—I would be his mother. But if that’s true…”

  “Now, Beth, don’t go reading so much into the feeling. I remember Valerie saying something similar whenever she held Leah’s kids.” Reins in hand, he gazed off in the distance, looking pensive. The evening sun began its descent in the western sky. Hues of pink, violet, red, and orange were painted across the horizon. “Women are supposed to have that certain longing concerning children. If they didn’t, the human race would be in a heap of trouble.”

  Bethany laughed softly at his response. “I guess you’re right.” She felt her smile shrink. “It just…well, I felt confused.” She couldn’t even speak her fear that perhaps the Lord willed for her to marry Ralph Jonas for the sake of his children. “Luke, how does a woman discern what is the will of God?”

  “Through prayer, Bible reading, and the prompting of the Holy Spirit.”

  Her conscience pricked. She hadn’t been very faithful in communing with the Lord. “Maybe I won’t make such a good pastor’s wife.”

  “I tell you a secret.” Luke leaned toward her and gave her shoulder a playful bump. “Most times I don’t think I make such a good pastor.”

  “But that’s not true. You preach with conviction. You try to live out what you believe.”

  “All right.” He chuckled. “I reckon I could say the same about you.”

  Bethany sighed.

  “Beth, don’t doubt yourself, especially when you’re tired. You worked hard today.”

  “You’re saying my mind is playing tricks on me?”

  “I’m saying don’t rush headlong into any decision based on some kind of feeling you got while holding a baby.”

  His words made sense. “But it seemed so real, Luke.”

  “I’m sure it did.”

  Bethany chewed her lower lip in consternation. “Have you ever experienced anything similar to what I described?”

  “All the time.”

  She brightened. “Really?”

  “Mmm-hmm. God’s Holy Spirit prompts every Christian, but we’ve got to make sure we’re not adding human sensibilities to the Lord’s direction for our lives.”

  “And you think I am?”

  “We-ell,” he drawled with a smile in his voice, “it’s been my experience that women plus babies equals a whole lot of emotion.” He chuckled. “I remember when Leah had her youngest. She, Ma, Sarah, and Valerie were gigglin’ and cryin’.” Another laugh. “Us boys just stayed out of their way.”

  Bethany grinned and imagined the scene in detail. Inwardly, she admitted there was a good amount of truth to Luke’s babies-and-women-equaled-emotion statement.

  “And don’t forget,” Luke added. “God is not the author of confusion but of peace.”

  She recognized the scriptural paraphrase. “That’s true.” Bethany didn’t add that she had no peace about remaining here in Silverstone—which made her earlier prompting even more bizarre. Marrying Ralph Jonas was a life sentence to hard labor in poor living conditions here in the Territory. And marrying Luke…

  The very thought sent liquid warmth through her veins. A longing she’d never experienced before caused her to touch his hand.

  Luke gave her a sideways glance. “If you’re tired, you can put your head on my shoulder.”

  “I’d like that.”

  He replied with a smile.

  Slipping her arm around his, she leaned her temple against his muscled arm. She didn’t sit tall enough to reach his shoulder.

  As the wagon bumped along, Bethany reveled in these few quiet moments with Luke. She wanted to marry him and be his wife. A good wife.

  She gazed upward and surreptitiously admired his rugged features against the backdrop of the setting sun. In an instant, she knew Luke belonged here in this wild Territory. She had, of course, suspected that truth all along. Now she felt certain of it.

  Her heart sank. Luke belonged, but she didn’t. And yet she loved Luke. How could such a great divide ever be bridged?

  SEVENTEEN

  DUSK HAD SETTLED OVER THE TOWN WHEN LUKE PULLED the wagon to a halt near the cabin he shared with Jake. He’d already let Bethany off in front of the boardinghouse.

  He smiled as he jumped from the wagon, remembering how she’d snuggled up against him on the road home. He enjoyed the feeling of her close beside him and hoped their wedding day would come sooner rather than later. There was no doubt in his mind that Beth loved him. They’d be happy together…here in Silverstone.

  Jake appeared at the doorway.

  “Got that cabin of yours built yet?” Luke grinned.

  Hanging his head back, Jake chuckled. “Are you kidding? I barely had a few hours to work on it today.”

  Disappointment enveloped Luke. “How come?”

  “Let me help you with the horses and we’ll talk.”

  That was Luke’s first clue that something significant took place.

  “How’s the Jonas family?”

  “’Bout the same.” Luke peered at his brother over the neck of the tall, black gelding. “Except Ralph threatened me.”

  “How so?”

  “He said he’s going to do his best to win Beth over. Said he prayed about it, and he’s certain she’s supposed to be his children’s new ma.”

  “Well, then, one of you ain’t hearin’ God’s voice,” Jake quipped. “You can’t both marry Beth.”

  “Go on.” Waving off Jake’s remark, Luke led his horse to the public stables behind their cabin. For the most part Ed Winters had built the large barn, but Jake had lent a hand, which was likely why the roof hadn’t blown off yet.

  “What are you worried about, Luke? Beth accepted your marriage proposal now, didn’t she?”

  “I don’t like the way Jonas plays with her mind. All her life, Beth took care of her brothers and sisters. Jonas likes to wield the guilt and make her feel like she ought to be caring for his young’uns in the same fashion.”

  “Well, it might work for, say…a half hour. But the fact is Beth loves you.”

  “Yeah?” Luke couldn’t help but smile.

  Jake’s laugh wafted over from the next stall. “I’m sure you’ll hear from her pa anytime now. I believe he’ll give his blessing.”

  “No doubt.”

  Luke met Beth’s father over a year ago, and they’d been friendly enough. After all, the older man had entrusted Beth’s care to him and Jake. But Luke did wonder why she didn’t mention her family too often. Never even wrote to them as far as he knew. On the other hand, she enjoyed conversing about the McCabes back in Jericho Junction.

  Which brought up another set of issues.

  “I told Beth that I planned to stay here in Silverstone—we can get married in Jericho Junction, but I’m aiming to turn around and come right back here. So I told her that if she’s going to be my wife, Silverstone will be our home.”

  “What’d she say to that?” Jake peered at him over the top plank of the stall.

  “Beth wants to stay in Jericho Junction.”

  “Uh-oh.”

  “I’m inclined to agree with your reaction, brother. We’ve got ourselves a situation.”

  “Well…” Jake moved around the second horse and stretched. “Unless Jonas promised Beth the moon, I’d say you’ve still got the upper hand.”

&nb
sp; Luke reckoned he was right.

  “Of course, she could always stay engaged to you until springtime in order to quell the gossips and then break things off with you once she’s safely back in Jericho Junction.”

  That’s the very thing Luke worried about. “Think she’d really do that?”

  “You didn’t give her much choice.”

  Jake walked out of the barn, and Luke trailed him. Maybe he’d backed Beth into a corner. Regrettable, seeing as he’d just meant to be honest.

  “If I heard right, Beth wants to get married in Jericho Junction.”

  “Yep. But I’m afraid if that happens, she’ll never leave there. And, Jake, this is where my home is.”

  They continued up the path to their cabin.

  “Let’s face it, Luke; you could settle anywhere and be happy. I don’t know why you’re being so stubborn about this.”

  “So you’re taking Beth’s side.”

  “Yep.”

  Luke’s jaw tensed while Jake lit a lantern. He set it down in the middle of the table. The wooden shutters on every window had been pulled back, allowing cool evening breezes to drift on in.

  “Look, you refuse to carry a weapon, and that concerns most everyone around here,” Jake said. “It’s only a matter of time before you’ll have to face a barrel of a gun.”

  “And how’s wearing one on my hip gonna save me?” he retorted. He thought of Warring Spirit and how the brave had lowered his weapon when he learned Luke was unarmed. “God is the owner of life and death.”

  “I agree. And I gotta admit my gun didn’t do me any favors today.”

  “What?” The comment got Luke’s attention.

  “Oh, yeah.” Pulling out a chair, Jake sat down at the table. He gave a habitual wince until he straightened out his bad leg. “I had a run-in with Miss Josephine and her hired man, Dirk Crawford.”

  Luke raised his brows, surprised.

  “Both threatened to kill me on account of one Dr. Annetta Cavanaugh.”

  “You don’t say?”

  “Say.” A hint of a grin split Jake’s shadowed jaw. “Have a seat, and I’ll tell you all about it.”